On The Wrong Side of the Veil
by EchoTango
Summary: Jian gazed longingly at the pale blue sky. He had forgotten how hard it was to travel overland and cursed the fortune that had stranded him on the wrong side of the veil. His feet hurt and his injured wing throbbed with every beat of his heart.
1. Chapter 1

He pulled in his wings tight to his body and sliced through the water in a shallow dive. The boy, one of Halling's brood, had gone under near where the river narrowed and the current picked up speed. He moved through the water quickly, the near freezing temperatures seeping through the protective shield he had woven around himself. With two more strokes he was able to take a firm hold of the boy's arm. A couple of swift kicks and they were bursting through to the surface where helpful hands relieved him of his sodden burden.

Teyla quickly carried Jinto's frightening still form to the riverbank and returned to extend a hand towards him.

"Take my hand, Jian, hurry."

The urgency in her voice carried her words to him above the noise of the encroaching rapids.

"Get back Teyla, go back."

He evaded her attempt to lift him to safety, because as much as she was loathe to acknowledge it, such a maneuver was beyond her. She hovered uncertainly and their eyes met and Jian could see the moment Teyla acquienced to his authority.

He began to swim for the river's bank, angling towards the shore, taking long broad strokes. He was a strong swimmer and he might have made it if this were another place in another time.

He felt the rift overtake him as it progressed along its inexorable journey down the river. He had been too slow and a moment too late. With the cries of his kindred echoing in his mind he was swept helplessly through the shimmering veil. He had one thought: that he had barely embarked on the journey of life and discovery that lay before him. Curses, he wasn't ready to step out with the Ancestors, not yet, he had too much left to do.

He awoke to the sound of the water gently lapping against the bank of the river. He could feel the welcome warmth of the early morning sun on his back and wondered briefly if he had time for a cup of tea before Ronon dragged him out for their daily training exercises. Jian was a firm believer in keeping his ground skills as sharply honed as those he employed in the air. The reality of the situation crashed down on him as the memories of the daring water rescue came flooding back to him. Jinto had been in trouble, had become caught in the river's current but Teyla had arrived just in time to lift him to safety.

Jian moaned as the disjointed memories of the tumultuous passage through the rift returned along with the awareness of his bruised and battered body. Fortunately he had been lucid enough to drag himself out of the water and onto the river bank before he had given into the darkness. He would have been in dire straits otherwise as the water was just as frigid here as it had been on the other side of the veil.

The other side of the veil. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Only a few of the proposed expeditions to this world had ever been sanctioned and they had the benefit of months if not years of preparation. No one just walked across to the other side, or in his case was swept through by a raging current of water. He couldn't have picked a worse site to cross over if he had tried. It was what the patrols were meant to prevent, this accidental and potentially deadly crossing.

He should have just stayed in the City, possibly not even gotten out of bed. Keeping his eyes closed Jian took several deep shuddering breaths and concentrated on finding his inner space just like Teyla had taught him. Well, tried to teach him anyways. The deep soul searching introspection that the Athosian meditation rite demanded just didn't suit his nature.

He ran his hand through his hair, grimacing as he encountered patches of drying mud. Well, at least the unruly mop he had inherited from his mother should stay down at least for awhile. By the Ancestors, nothing else he had tried except for keeping it shorn close to his head had worked. Jian exhaled sharply as his attempt to gain his feet sent a sharp jab running across his shoulders. He waited until the pain had subsided to a dull throb before he shifted his weight and pulled himself up first onto his knees and finally to his feet.

He had been surprised to find himself still of this world - or at least alive, he corrected himself - as he surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. He recognized this part of the valley where the river widened and the current that had been so deadly further upstream gentled and slowed down to a crawl. Gone however were any sign of habitation as the mixed forest stretched along either side of the river towards the mountain range beyond. Gone were the small, precisely placed farms and cotholds, not even a wisp of smoke reaching up to the sky.

He unfurled his wings and stretched them out carefully, reaching out with his magic to assess the damage that had resulted from the wild tumble through the rift. The small tears would heal quickly but he could sense a fracture in two of the fingerling bones that would require more time. He needed sustenance and shelter so that he could use what little magic was left to him in this world to weave a simple healing spell.

There was no question that he had been pulled all the way through to the other world. Whether it pleased him or not, he was no longer on Terra and unless he was able to find his way to the rift before it closed he would remain here for some time to come. He had listened to enough stories told by the Elders around the evening meal of those explorers and scholars who had been to the other world and back again to know that his kind were unknown on this side of the veil. If he was careful and kept his wings tight to his body he should go unnoticed to the casual observer for he was in no condition to weave and maintain the spell of obscurity.

He looked up to the sky where the sun had not yet reached its zenith and to the mountain peaks beyond the forest. He would follow the river until he reached its end and hopefully he would get there before the rift hit the mountains and was dissipated beneath the rock.

Rodney breathed a sigh of relief as the pickup skidded to a halt a few inches short of Caldwell's mailbox. To take out the neighbour's mailbox, again, that's all he needed to end his far from perfect day. To give the man credit, he hadn't reported the incident when it had happened the first time, just accepted the new box Rodney had dropped off the next day with a nod of his head and an invitation to share a cup of coffee. Rodney had stayed because, hey coffee, and really he had sprung for one of the good ones; the boxes that usually only the tourists bothered with buying.

Not everyone was as supportive though and Rodney had no doubt Emma had already heard about the incident with the shopping cart and Mrs. Dickson. It was a perfectly reasonable mistake; after all he liked everything she had picked out. All of the easy and convenient processed foods that he seemed to live on these days. Tinned soups and boxed pasta, frozen dinners and pizzas and sugary cereal and milk and of course lots and lots of coffee. Well, now that he thought about it, that should have been his first clue because Rodney never bought store brand beans. It was pathetic, really. What was the woman thinking feeding her family that crap and who left their shopping cart unattended in the middle of the aisle like that? He had given it back so he didn't understand what the whole hullabaloo was about.

He lowered the visor against the glare of the setting sun and examined the woods that lined the roadside. It had taken him weeks but he had managed to strategically place markers on the trees lining the route from the town right up to his front yard. Once that far even he couldn't miss the bizarre sculpture cum weather vane that rested proudly at the end of his driveway. All that work because he had become confused on his way home last month.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he would get lost on his way back to the cabin, hence the visual aids. It was just a normal part of aging, he muttered under his breath as he shifted into reverse and carefully backed away from the offending mailbox. He had never been good at remembering peoples names, that had been Sam's job and so what if he had forgotten his last two doctor's appointments. He was a very busy man and really he had never been very good at balancing the checkbook but that wasn't because he had forgotten how.

Oh God, who was he kidding? He was losing it and losing it fast. He had gone from an eccentric artist to crazy old man McKay. He had progressed from forgetting where he had left his keys to forgetting what the keys were for, from misplacing a recipe to forgetting how to follow it, from inadvertently taking a wrong turn to getting lost on the way to the cabin in which he had lived in these past ten years.

He carefully shifted into forward and pulled the pickup a little ways up the shoulder of the road, taking slow, calming breaths. "Come on McKay, buck up, it's not so bad. You've got a ways to go yet," he told himself firmly as he checked behind him before moving onto the greying asphalt of the rural country road.

He wondered idly if talking to oneself was a symptom of Alzheimer's. Emma had accused him of being in denial but there was a difference between pretending nothing was wrong and refusing to give up.

He had led a good life and was lucky enough to have had more years then he deserved with the most desirable woman on the planet. Her beauty and brilliance had shone like a beacon in his life, always drawing him home. Almost a decade his junior, he never thought she would be the first to go. Considering how he tended to neglect his physical needs, especially when he was immersed in his painting, he really had believed he would escape the pain and grief of losing his best friend and partner in life.

Tomorrow he would head down to the river to sketch and to find what inspiration he could. More like divine intervention at the rate he was going, he thought, pushing back the desperation before it could manifest as a panic attack or worse, tears. This was his last shot, he knew that. His last chance to add to his life's work but, it just wasn't happening. Maybe he didn't have it in him anymore. Maybe he had already lost his artistry to the disease, maybe it had already won and he just hadn't noticed yet.

"No," he huffed "Just stop, stop it, stop it, damn you, McKay, you old fart. It ain't over till the fat lady sings."

It was peaceful down near the water's edge and for some reason his mind was clearer and more focused there. So tomorrow, another day, another chance. He predicted that he had maybe a few more years before he was gone for good or at least as good as dead. Alzheimer's was a bitch and he had promised himself that he would fight her for every hour, every minute; that he would have no regrets and he could think of no better way to keep his mind alive than through his art.


	2. Chapter 2

Jian gazed longingly at the pale blue sky. He had forgotten how hard it was to travel overland and cursed the fortune that had stranded him on the wrong side of the veil. His feet hurt and his injured wing throbbed with every beat of his heart; he knew that he needed help.

He had been tracking the Elder that he had passed earlier and who now seemed to be headed his way. He debated the wisdom of making contact. The man had followed the riverbank most of the day, stopping frequently to make quick sketches of whatever had captured his attention. The shoreline across the river, an isolated bloom growing within a patch of fungi, a copse of drowned trees all had been transferred to paper with an intense passion that bordered upon ferocity.

The decision was taken from him when he turned and came face to face with the Elder in question. When he was not muttering under his breath or sketching on his paper the man could move with the stealth of a feral cat. For a long moment they both stood and stared at one another until the Elder broke the silence that seemed to have descended upon the entire forest.

"Who are you and what are you doing here? This is private property, you know."

Jian remembered his lessons at the academy, studies he had undertaken to assuage the burning itch he felt to know more about this world. Like his appearance, his name would draw unwanted attention. He hesitated as he struggled to retrieve what he had learned so many years ago. The last group of explorers to successful return from behind the veil had reported that it was normal practice to be known by occupation thus making James the Smith commonplace. He tried not to think about the most recent expedition that had disappeared without a trace.

Jian blinked and returned the Elder's sharp blue gaze. It was always best to stay as close to the truth as possible and his family did have a long and proud history that was reflected in his family name. Well it was late to avoid unwanted attention. That chance had passed the second he had detoured from his path to study the man more closely.

"Jian the Sheppard at your service, sire."

The Elder's eyes grew wide before narrowing into a suspicious glare.

"Do I have 'gullible and dim-witted' engraved across my forehead? What-is-your-name? Or shall we just take this to the appropriate authorities."

No, Jian had no desire to converse with any authority figure. Him and those in the hierarchies just never seemed to quite see things in the same way.

"Very well," he muttered half under his breath as he pulled himself up as best he could and then relaxed into his particular version of the presentation stance of the Aerial Corps. He held himself at the ready while at the same time keeping his body loose and affecting a calm almost insolent demeanor. It was an image he had spent years hiding behind and one that had driven most of the wing masters he had served under to utter distraction.

"Jian, Thaddeus, Juozas, Johannes, Ribaldo Sheppard of the Southern High Reaches at your service."

"John Sheppard it is then," the man responded without missing a beat of time though the way he pronounced Jian wasn't quite right, the inflection being a bit off, though not in a displeasing sort of way.

"Rodney McKay and wait, you're from the south, from the States? You don't sound American," the Elder told him with a scowl, his voice echoing the uncertainty reflected in his eyes. "You aren't one of those bleeding heart mamby-pampy tree-huggers are you?"

"Perhaps?" Jian offered tentatively, a little smirk playing on his lips, for he had understood little of what had been said.

"And what's with the wings? A little much don't you think?"

"Wings," he repeated weakly, his mouth gone suddenly dry "No just my cloak," Jian told him cockily, quickly recovering and pulling them in just a little bit tighter.

The Elder graced him with another withering glare.

"You're not a groupie, are you?"

"Certainly not," Jian was quick to say. He had no idea what a groupie was but judging from the disdain fairly dripping off the other man's words, he was sure he didn't want to be one.

"I will have you know that my fantasy series, The Sky Beneath You, has won several prestigious international awards, so, you know, it's okay if you are," the Elder added, in a shy tone.

"Still not one, thank you," Jian declared. He still didn't know what this groupie was.

"Oh I get it," Rodney told him, snapping his fingers for emphasis "you're hoping I'll accept you as my model. I can be pretty demanding though and I expect a high degree of professionalism and the hours are long especially once I finish with the sketches and begin painting."

An artist's model? No one had ever mistaken him for such. He was too tall and muscular and his kind usually had well, less hair, and his eyes weren't right. They were always a different colour, sometimes green and then almost a golden brown depending on the light and his mood. To be honest he was not the most attractive of his people. Jian felt himself begin to flush beneath the Elder's intense scrutiny and bristle at the implied sarcasm.

"I think not," he hotly denied.

"B-but, you're perfect," the Elder exclaimed, his expression broadcasting his confusion and bewilderment.

"Hardly perfect, Elder McKay," Jian drawled sarcastically, as he looked down at himself. He leathers were water-stained and the mud had dried and left patches of ugly brown streaks on his flying boots not to mention his hair which had to be standing to attention by now.

"Ok, fine not perfect then," the Elder huffed in exasperation "except that it's the imperfections that make you so, uhm, perfect."

"Truly?" Jian let slip, his eyebrows drawn up, expressing his obvious surprise at the Elder's assessment.

"Yeah, and so you know, I don't generally resort to props," the Elder told him with a wave of his hand "I find they limit rather than inspire but hey that is a pretty decent costume. Did you make it yourself? What's it made of?" Rodney asked as he reached out and firmly grasped one of the wings.

Startled, Jian hissed and leapt back, his wings flying open and fluttering with agitation in response to the man's touch. It was an intimate gesture he was unused to receiving from strangers… and it hurt.

"Ow."

The Elder also had backed away, clearly in shock, his blue eyes wide and vivid against the sudden pallor of his face. "Sorry," he finally managed to croak out. He took a step closer, his hands hovering over but not touching the still quivering wings.

"No, it's fine, I was unprepared. I apologize if I frightened you," Jian choked out gasping against the sharp pain that shot through his body, the wings' bony infrastructure practically vibrating.

The Elder's gaze snapped around to his. "Don't be an idiot. It seems to me that you could use a decent meal and a hot shower."

His head cocked to one side, Jian studied the Elder, the way his eyes tracked the slightest movment of his still outstretched wings, the barely concealed excitement and, dare he say, awe in his expression. He saw the concern and distress in the Elder's eyes as his hands hovered uneasily over the clearly damaged portion of his left wing span and the way he reluctantly lowered his hands and stepped away, quickly hiding a flash of regret.

"Well, are you coming? Chop, chop. Time waits for no man."

Jian smiled wearily and did some quick calculations in his head. The rift would close as the new moon rose full in the night sky and then it would be gone again for a long, long time. He'd never make it to the foothills in time to catch the rift before it dove beneath the mountains, not in his current condition, so why not take advantage and experience what he could of this world. Besides, for however brief a time it would be, the prospect of playing model to the Elder's art appealed to him. It would be amusing and there had been little in Jian's life of late that he found enjoyable.

"Very well, lead the way Elder McKay," he told the Elder, his lips twitching into a smirk at the startled confusion the Elder displayed as if uncertain how to proceed now that Jian had accepted his invitation.

"Right, right, well this way then."

Jian exhaled softly as he carefully retracted his wings and folded them neatly around himself. As they headed down the well-worn path, away from the river, he reflected that perhaps today would prove to be one of the good ones after all.

Rodney led the way back to his cabin in silence at a complete loss for words. An occurrence that didn't happen too often. He kept glancing back and no they hadn't gone away. Wings! Iridescent blue, bat-shaped, man sized, warm and velvety soft wings.

He had hoped that he had a few years yet before he became delusional and even then he had expected to be barricading himself in the bathroom, afraid that the neighbours were out to get him. Karl Javinski, his closest neighbour, had always scared him just a little bit. This was over the top even for him. He wondered if his new friend was a product of his deteriorating brain or if the man was real and only the unusual appendages on his back were hallucinatory.

He came out of the woods leading to his back yard and skidded to a stop when he saw the red Honda parked in the driveway.

"Oh, no."

"What is it?"

"It's my daughter-in-law, Emma. Just shut up and let me do all the talking."

"He's back here, Mom."

"And my grandson, Nathan, hey, put that away," Rodney hissed when he noticed Jian had pulled a dagger seemingly from out of thin air.

"Grandpa, where have you been? We've been worried about you."

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?" Emma asked suspiciously as she looked Jian over.

Rodney breathed a sigh of relief. Oh thank God, the man himself was real so that meant he was only half crazy.

"Emma this is John Sheppard. He's my new assistant. He'll be staying in the cabin with me. You were right I really shouldn't be up here alone."

He had never been very good at lying so he was careful to only bend the truth a little, okay maybe a lot . It helped too if he told Emma what she wanted to hear.

"I see," Emma replied tersely, her lips pressed into a tight line as she looked Jian over from the bottom of his boots to the tips of his disheveled, spiky hair.

"Dr. Duia recommended him," Rodney told her as he stepped between Jian and his daughter-in-law.

"Hey Grandpa," Nathan greeted him, sounding so much like his father that Rodney felt his throat close up just a little bit.

At sixteen, his grandson was thankfully over the worst of the hormone induced angst of teenage-hood and was almost human again. A stage his son had regretfully not been around to enjoy. Rodney could commiserate only too well with the tension and bitterness that surrounded his daughter-in-law. Rodney had supported Jack's decision to re-enlist in the same military that had claimed Sam's life for its own.

"I thought you didn't use props and special effects Grandpa. Isn't that a sign of a less than stellar intellect and a lazy imagination?" Nathan teased.

Rodney stifled a gasp as Nathan reached out and rubbed his fingers along the back of the wings. Jian had tensed at his touch and Rodney could see a hint of a steel blade beneath the velvety softness.

"Good job Grandpa. It bet you could get a job as a special effects technician any time you wanted; totally awesome costume. Did you make it?"

Oh, thank God, he hadn't gone insane at all then, and yes, the irony did not escape him.

"Show us, Grandpa, please?"

"Nathan," Emma scolded. "You don't have to Dad," she told Rodney quietly and his heart tightened up a little because he rarely heard her address him as such since Jack had been declared KIA.

It was how the two had met, hooking up at one of Rodney's shows, drawn together by his father's art but working together because thankfully Jack had taken after his mother when it came to the social graces.

"No, it's okay," Rodney told them not wanting this moment to end, "John, show them, the right side only please."

"Certainly, as you wish," Jian agreed smoothly.

Rodney held his breath as Jian extended the right wing out to its full length because oh, my, God, they weren't a figment of his imagination or a by-product of his dementia, they were honest to God real.

"The other one was damaged when John slipped on some rocks," he explained calmly. It could even have been the truth, as Rodney hadn't asked how it had happened. "Emma, perhaps you can stay and help me re-glue the joints and then I can use some help in grinding the pigments for the new colours."

"I'm afraid not Dad, we need to get back to the city. Try to remember to take your cell phone with you next time and save us all some time and aggravation."

And just like that the moment was gone, shattered into sharp pieces of cool indifference.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Rodney had ushered Emma and Nathan onward towards their home in the heart of the city, Jian was pale and shocky; frankly Rodney was amazed that he was still on his feet. He could have been dragged through the mud by a rabid grizzly bear and not come out looking as worn and haggard .

Rodney cranked up the old hot water heater and reluctantly left Jian in the shower. With his wings partially outstretched he had barely fit into the thankfully oversized stall. The water had run down the wings in small rivulets, the softly furred skin gradually turning a deep cobalt blue. Rodney couldn't help but stare.

He would have given in to the urge to touch too if it weren't for Jian's raised eyebrows and the way his mouth twitched into a smirk as if he was laughing on the inside. Rodney felt the flush creep into his cheeks and he beat a hasty retreat. First things first. Jian was tired, hungry and hurt and needed clean dry clothes, food and a warm place to rest. Besides he had plenty of material just from this afternoon's encounter; enough to keep him engaged for the rest of the night, enough to fill an entire sketchbook.

He dug out a pair of sweats and a flannel shirt that Jack had worn when he was visiting. They were spotted with old paint and the years of repeated washings had left them a little threadbare in places but Rodney had just never had the heart to throw them out. He hesitated and then also left a pair of thick winter socks and a pair of his own boxers. On top of the pile he left a pair of scissors. He wasn't sure how Jian's shirt fitted around his wings but decided to leave him to figure that out on his own.

The fireplace had been retro-fitted with a gas insert the previous winter because Rodney simply could not trust himself with a live flame anymore. He turned the gas onto the highest setting and set about warming up a tin of soup, one of the thick kinds with lots and meat and vegetables. He was sure the processed food would be unfamiliar and strange but it would be hot and filling. First thing in the morning he would head back into town to get some real food.

Rodney took another deep breath and gathered the remainder of the grocery bags. Jian was already rooting through the ones he had previously brought inside. By the time Rodney had set down the final bag he had polished off a full tin of mixed nuts and gone through a carton of mango nectar and was currently sliding an entire roasted chicken onto the plate Rodney had slapped down in front of him with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, really hungry," he mumbled through a mouthful of chicken "the healing spell takes a lot out of you."

Rodney frowned as he noted how well the broken wing had healed in just a single night. The broken joint was no longer exposed, the newly healed skin covering it a pale purple with a hint of the dark blue fur that was beginning to grow back. Though it was clear that he favoured his left side Rodney guessed that in another few days it would be fully healed.

By the time Rodney had arrived at the grocery store he had forgotten why he had gone. Fortunately he had brought a list annotated with detailed notes and he had just gone by that, buying everything on it without second guessing himself. On the return trip he couldn't help but notice that the closer he got to the cabin the clearer his mind became like a fog slowly dissipating under the morning sun.

"Here's the thing," Rodney said as he peeled back the top portion of a banana Jian had been fumbling with before handing it back to him, "I have this disease that's eating away at my brain. Oh, don't worry, it's not contagious," he huffed impatiently as Jian stopped eating and pushed carefully away from the kitchen table.

"I didn't think it was," Jian told him as he swallowed down the last bite of the sweet creamy flesh. "You want to know if I can heal you."

"Well, duh?"

Jian smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"But I'm better just being near you, I can feel it. I'm not as stupid."

Jian shook his head. "It's not me, it's the magic that lays within you, that lays within us all. "

Jian chuckled at the pained look on the Elder's expressive face. "I know it sounds archaic, but it's true. A healer may facilitate and support but the healing spell is centered in the individual himself, Elder McKay."

"Stop calling me that, I'm not your elder," Rodney snapped, "I'm not old, I'm…complicated. Oh, for heaven's sake just call me Rodney or if you're feeling obstinate McKay will do."

"Very well, Raw-de-ney," Jian repeated in a lilting drawl. "Rodney McKay," he said, clearly enunciating each letter as if he were testing the words.

"So, physician heal thyself, teach me then." 

Jian shook his head. "The magic's not strong enough on this world, not for that kind of healing spell; the brain, the mind, it's a complicated weave that requires the participation of both healer and patient. Even between the both of us and what's seeping through the rift, it's just not enough and that's assuming I know what I'm doing, which I don't. I'm not a healer, Eld- Rodney," Jian corrected himself.

"It's no use then," Rodney muttered, his shoulders sagging and pulling in, making him look smaller, diminished by the weight of his hopelessness.

"I didn't say that," Jian snapped, his eyes whirling from brown to green and gold. "Come over here. Please," he added when Rodney hesitated, "just a simple exercise to judge your capabilities."

What Jian didn't tell Rodney was that even though the life force lay within every living creature not everyone was capable of drawing on its power. There was only one way to find out.

Rodney nodded and walked over to where Jian stood.

"Closer."

Rodney moved closer until he was well within the other's personal space.

"Now turn around."

Rodney turned and jumped a little when Jian placed his hands gently on his shoulders.

"Close your eyes."

Rodney complied and then swayed just a little bit, taken off balance, when Jian wrapped his wings securely around the both of them. The underside of the wings was just as soft and warm as the outer surface and Rodney could just make out a faint pulse that echoed the rhythm of Jian's heartbeat.

"Relax, I've got you. Can you feel it, Rodney? Can you feel the magic?"

Rodney snorted, "Yeah, I can feel the magic all right."

"It's just a word, McKay. Would you prefer collective primal life force energy?"

"No, no, magic is fine," Rodney decided because even though Jian hadn't moved, hadn't adjusted his embrace he could feel a pressure building against his skin, but from the inside out. Rodney stiffened as he felt a tingling warmth sweep suddenly through his whole body.

"Relax, McKay, the energy is there for you to use. Gather it up, make it your own. Don't think too much."

Okay, okay, he could do that. Breathing in deeply and evenly he concentrated on easing the tension in his body.

"Good, now think of where we are in the solar system."

It had been three days and Rodney still found it hard to believe. No, that wasn't quite right because if he was truthful and wasn't that one of his many faults, his inability to diassemble, he believed. He really did. He believed in the magical life force energy and in the wings. It was just hard to process it all. Another world existing concurrently with his own, each touching the other if only enough to generate myths and legends at least on his side.

In Terra the study of Earth was an established scientific discipline supported by every major and most of the minor realms. Uh, a whole new scientifc field to explore. That Rodney found that prospect exciting was a gross understatement.

It was late but he hadn't even tried to sleep instead choosing to work instead. He had filled one pad already and was well on the way to filling a second. As a model Rodney couldn't have found anyone better than Jian. He was a natural, having an easy awareness of his body that translated into interesting, uncontrived poses.

Rodney hadn't bothered with preliminary sketching instead choosing soft pastels to quickly complete each piece. He preferred working with oils on canvas but that would have just taken too long. Tonight he was using only charcoal, he was running out of the blues anyways.

Rodney held his breath as Jian stirred in his sleep shifting a leg a little but otherwise remaining as he was, sprawled peacefully on Rodney's spare bed. The moonlight shone through the large floor to ceiling windows painting a silvery swath across the room, highlighting the folds of the wings as they lay bunched up along his back. Rodney had been surprised at how flexible and sturdy they appeared to be, molding themselves to Jian's body, surrounding him in warmth and comfort, a built in security blanket. Rodney sighed, he could use a security blanket right about now.

Jian had accidentally fallen through a rift in the barrier that separated their two worlds and according to the calculations Jian had done _in his head,_ he had less than a day left to catch the rift before it was gone again. Gone until the planets and stars were aligned exactly right, when it would reappear and move along the river basin until it reached the mountains and disappeared again. The cycle repeated itself every sixty-four years.

He shifted in his seat, and with head bent close he concentrated on adding the last details to his drawing. Tomorrow he would spray it with fixative before gathering up every scrap together with a note for Nathan.

Rodney stilled as Jian turned over onto his back, the wings moving with him. "Rodney, go to sleep," he murmered. "Now would be good," he added when Rodney didn't move.

"They'll be plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead, Sheppard."

Jian's eyes cracked open and he glared at the other man. "Don't make me come over there, McKay," he growled softly.

"Yes, yes fine, packing up now," Rodney grumbled. There was no way he would sleep tonight though.

Jian was leaving in the morning and Rodney was going with him. It was a chance of a lifetime. He was going not because of the wings or the wizards, oh pardon me, life force energy specialists, or the fairies, Jian's description left no doubt in Rodney's mind that they could be anything else, or the other incredulous things of which Jian had spoken. No, it was because his mind would be whole again or at least as close as he was ever going to get.

He hadn't noticed it at first until the trip into town to get supplies. When he was close to Jian the blanket of confusion lifted and he could think with a clarity that he had never known even before his illness. It was the magic. A magical force that was strong on the other side of the veil. There was no guarantee of a cure, he knew that, but he had to give it a shot. It was an easy decision to leave this life behind and one he knew he would not regret.

They had ridden McKay's pickup to within a couple of hours walk from the river's edge. If he was alone Jian would have flown over the tree tops, following the river until he reached the point where the rift broke through the Veil but he wasn't alone. Rodney had been uncharacteristically quiet as they had walked the rest of the way to the cliff edge overlooking the river basin.

"You have got to be kidding me," he exclaimed as they both looked down into the river gorge. "I thought you couldn't carry me."

"I can't lift your weight," he explained patiently once again. "We will descend in a controlled manner. To 'infinity and beyond'," Jian called out to the sky.

Rodney rubbed his hand down his face. "Arrgh, I never should have introduced you to the DVD."

"Come on, Rodney," Jian urged "Just put your arms around me and hold on tight."

"Wait, maybe there's another way down."

"We're out of time, Rodney, see," he told him, pointing to the glittering shimmer that had appeared below them.

"Okay, then let's do it," Rodney told him him firmly, as he wrapped his arms around Jian's chest and closed his eyes.

"Stop and get away from the ledge."

"Nathan?"

Jian was impressed. The youngling had approached them with the same stealth as his grandsire and now stood in a position where the weapon he carried - a rifle- could do Jian real damage.

"It's not what it looks like, Nathan," Rodney pleaded.

"You mean like you're about to jump or be pushed. Mom looked him up Grandpa, John Sheppard doesn't exist and Dr Duia has never heard of him. Whatever you think you're doing, it's a con."

"We don't have time for this Rodney."

"I know. Just shut up and let me think. Nathan, please I know what I'm doing. How did you find us anyways?"

Nathan moved so that he had a better line of sight. "Came to check up on you and found the note on where to find the truck."

Jian gave Rodney an incredulous look, "You left a note?" he squeaked.

"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Didn't want the truck to just sit here. It's not good for it," Rodney admitted.

Jian sighed as the youngling adjusted his stance against the uneven ground. He was not familiar with the firearm Nathan was holding but he had trained on similar projectile weaponry and could see the ease with which the youngling handled it.

"Rodney I thought that the younglings of this world were not permitted to train in the art of warfare. It was barbaric, you said."

"Oh will you just focus on the issue here, I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry I implied that your culture engaged in primitive rites of passage. Come on, a little help here, he thinks we're nuts."

Jian grinned, unrepentant. Provoking Rodney had become a favoured activity.

"Just show him already, you know, the wings," Rodney gestured imperiously. "Nathan look, they're real," Rodney implored, willing Nathan to understand as Jian stretched out and flexed his wings.

"He's from another world and I'm going with him."

There was only one way, Jian thought as he launched himself off the edge. He pulled his wings in tight and swooped down into a shallow dive and then lifted up, narrowly missing the cliff face on the opposite side. A few twists and turns and then he held his position hovering high over the river.

His cry of warning was lost in the wind as the youngling, in a state of complete distraction, lost his footing and slipped over the edge. Nathan had managed to grab hold of a number of stunted bushes and saplings that grew along the gorge face and they had broken his fall. It wasn't enough. Jian scooped Rodney up as he attempted to navigate his way down the gorge and deposited him with a small jolt beside his grandson.

Between him and Rodney they probably could have helped the youngling begin the healing process. Given the strength of Rodney's life force Jian had no doubt of his grandson's abilities. He would not expect a healing per se, but enough positive energy could be drawn to mitigate the boy's injuries, well enough that he could be left to make his own way home. Given enough time, that is, time they did not have, he noted, as he watched the sparkling edge of the rift draw alongside them.

"Someone needs to stay with him, McKay."

"I know."

"I've got his back."

"What?"

"So long Rodney," Jian told him as he pushed the best friend he had on this Earth through the rift in the Veil, "see you in sixty-four years."

Jian landed lightly and pulled his wings in around his body. "It's here, Nathan. It's time."

The youngling, his hair now as white as the snow lilies of the Northern Heights turned to him, his clear, blue eyes alight with excitement as he looked downstream into the shimmering light of the rift. Beneath the spell of obscurity that hid his true nature Jian knew he remained unchanged. He wondered if Rodney had found what he was looking for, if he had learned to heal himself.

Nathan moved forward eagerly, the limp he had lived with for the last sixty-four years hardly noticeable.

"So long Rodney, that's all you had to say?" a voice echoed loudly through the Veil. "Well, you're not going to keep an old man waiting, are you?"

Jian laughed and shouted into the wind. "Not old McKay, just complicated." He was more than ready to go home.

They had traveled across the globe and had lived an adventure of a lifetime. It had been a journey of discovery that would be discussed around the cooking fires all over the realm. Jian smiled as he turned around for one last look before walking into the sparkling light with absolutely no regrets.


End file.
